Duelling in Ireland.

Chapter II.

Duelling - Judicial and Legal Duellists - Duelling Clubs and Rules - Hates - Pat Power - Bryan Maguire - Trials for Dues.

The universal practice of duelling, and the ideas entertained of it, contributed not a little to the disturbed and ferocious state of society we have been describing. No gentleman had taken his proper station in life till he had “smelt powder,” as it was called; no barrister could go circuit till he had obtained a reputation in this way; no election, and scarcely an assizes, passed without a number of duels; and many men of the bar, practising half a century ago, owed their eminence, not to powers of eloquence or to legal ability, but to a daring spirit and the number of duels they had fought. Some years since, a young friend, going to the bar, consulted the late Dr. Hodgkinson, [Dr. Francis Hodgkinson, Professor of Modern History, was elected Fellow in 1782, and died in 1840.] Vice-Provost of Trinity College, then a very old man, as to the best course of study to pursue, and whether he should begin with Fearne or Chitty. The doctor, who had long been secluded from the world, and whose observation was beginning to fail, immediately reverted to the time when he had been himself a young barrister; and his advice was - “My young friend, practise four hours a day at Rigby’s pistol gallery, and it will advance you to the woolsack faster than all the Fearnes and Chittys in the library.”

Sir Jonah Barrington gives some singular details illustrative of this, and a catalogue of barristers who killed their man and judges who fought their way to the bench. We shall notice some of them, and a few additional particulars which Barrington has not mentioned.

Among the barristers most distinguished in this way was Bully Egan, [John Egan, Chairman of Kilmainham, a resolute opponent of the Union, died in 1810.] Chairman of the Quarter Sessions for the county of Dublin. He was a large, black, burly man, but of so soft and good-natured a disposition that he was never known to pass a severe sentence on a criminal without blubbering in tears. Yet he perhaps, fought more duels than any man on or off the bench. Though so tender-hearted in passing sentence on a criminal, he was remarkably firm in shooting a friend. He fought at Donnybrook with the Master of the Rolls, before a crowd of spectators, who were quite amused at the drollery of the scene. When his antagonist fired, he was walking coolly away saying his honour was satisfied; but Egan called out: “I must have a shot at ‘your honour.’” On his returning to his place, Egan said he would not humour him, or be bothered with killing him but he might either come and shake hands, or go to the devil.

On another occasion he fought with Keller a brother barrister. It was no unusual thing for two opposite counsel to fall out in court in discussing a legal point, retire to a neighbouring field to settle it with pistols, and then return to court to resume their business in a more peaceable manner. Such an instance occurred at the assizes of Waterford. Keller and Egan fell out on a point of law, and both retired from court. They crossed the river Suir in a ferryboat, to gain the county of Kilkenny. Harry Hayden, a large man, and a justice of the peace for the county, when he heard of it, hastened to the spot, and got in between them just as they were preparing to fire. They told him to get out of the way or they would shoot him, and then break every bone in his body. He declared his authority as a justice of the peace. They told him if he was St Peter from heaven they would not mind him. They exchanged shots without effect and then returned to court. The cause of their absence was generally understood, and they found the bench, jury, and spectators quietly expecting to hear which of them was killed.

Fitzgibbon, the Attorney-General, who was after-wards Lord Chancellor and Earl of Clare, fought with Curran, afterwards Master of the Rolls with enormous pistols 12 inches long.

Scott, afterwards Lord Chief Justice of the King’s Bench and Earl of Clonmel, fought Lord Tyrawly on some affair about his wife, and afterwards with the Earl of Llandaff; about his sister, [Lord Clonmel’s first wife was the only sister of the first Earl of Liandaff whose name was Mathew, of a Welsh family settled in Tipperary.] and with several others, on miscellaneous subjects, and with various weapons, swords and pistols.

Metge, [Peter Metge, a Baron of the Exchequer, 1784-1801.] Baron of the Exchequer, fought with his own *brother-in-law, *and two other antagonists.

Patterson, [Marcus Patterson, Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, 1770- -1787.] Justice of the Common Pleas, fought three country gentlemen, and wounded them all; one of the duels was with small swords. Toler, Lord Norbury, Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, fought “fighting Fitzgerald,” and several others. So distinguished was Mr. Toler for his deeds in this way, that he was always the man depended on by the Administration to frighten a member of the opposition; and so rapid was his promotion in consequence, that it was said he *shot *up into preferment.

Grady, First Counsel to the Revenue, fought Maher and Campbell, two barristers, and several others quos perscribere longum est.

Curran, Master of the Rolls, was as much distinguished for his duels as his eloquence. He called out, among others, Lord Buckinghamshire, Chief Secretary for Ireland, because he would not dismiss, at his dictation, a public officer.

The Right Honourable G. Ogle, a Privy Councillor, and member for Dublin, the great Orange champion, encountered Barny Coyle, a distiller of whiskey, because he was a papist; and Coyle challenged him, because he said “he would as soon break an oath as swallow a poached egg.” The combatants were so inveterate, that they actually discharged *four *brace of pistols without effect. The seconds did not come off so well as the principals - one of them broke his arm by stumbling into a potato trench. Ogle was as distinguished a poet as a duellist, and his song of “Banna’s Banks” has been for half a century a prime favourite.

Sir Hardinge Giffard, Chief Justice of Ceylon, hag an encounter with the unfortunate barrister, Bagenal Harvey, afterwards the rebel leader in the county of Wexford, by whom he was wounded.

The Right Honourable Henry Grattan, leader of the House of Commons, was ever ready to sustain with his pistols the force of his arguments. He began by fighting Lord Earlsfort, and ended by shooting the Honourable Isaac Corry, Chancellor of the Exchequer. He called him, in the debate on the Union, “a dancing-master,” and while the debate was going on, went from the House to fight him, and shot him through the arm.

So general was the practice, and so all-pervading was the duel mania, that the peaceful shades of the university could not escape if. Not only students adopted the practice, but the Principal and Fellows set the example. The Honourable J. Hely Hutchinson, the Provost, introduced, among other innovations on the quiet retreats of study, dancing and the fashionable arts. Among them was the noble science of defence, for which he wished to endow a professorship. He is represented in Pranceriana [“Pranceriana - a collection of fugitive pieces, published after the appointment of Provost Hutchinson, A.D. 1775,”] as a fencing-master, trampling on Newton’s Principia while he makes a lunge. He set the example of duelling to his pupils, by challenging and fighting Doyle, a Master in Chancery; while his son, the Honourable Francis Hutchinson, Collector of the Customs in Dublin, not to degenerate from his father, fought a duel with Lord Mountnorris.

As if this was not sufficient incentive to the students, the Honourable Patrick Duigenan, a Fellow and Tutor in Trinity College, challenged a barrister, and fought him; and not satisfied with setting one fighting example to his young class of pupils, he called out a second opponent to the field.

The public mind was in such a state of irritation from the period of 1780 to the time of the Union, that it was supposed 300 remarkable duels were fought in Ireland during that interval. Counties or districts became distinguished for their dexterity at the weapons used - Galway, for the sword; Tipperary, Roscommon, and Sligo, for the pistol; Mayo for equal skill in both.

So universal and irrepressible was this propensity, that *duelling clubs *were actually established, the conditions of which were, that before a man was ballotted for he must sign a solemn declaration that he had exchanged a shot or thrust with some antagonist; and a code of laws and regulations was drawn up as a standard, to refer to on all points of honour. This was called, “The practice of duelling and points of honour settled at Clonmel summer assizes, 1755, by gentlemen delegates from Tipperary, Galway, &c., and presented for general adoption throughout Ireland.” This singular national document is still extant, though happily now never appealed to.

The following occurrence, which took place in February, 1781, is characteristic of the mode in which points of honour were then settled. A gentleman in the uniform of the Roscommon Volunteers came into the room at a fashionable hazard-table. He was abused by one of the company present with whom he happened to be engaged in litigation, and to whom, for that reason, he did not choose to reply. The bystanders, imputing his silence to cowardice, added their sneers to the reproaches of his first assailant. One of the party, a subaltern in the army, was particularly severe in his taunts, and at length, in a paroxysm of indignation at what he conceived to be a disgrace to the military costume - being worn by a man who appeared not to have a spark of courage - he came up to the stranger, and rudely taking off his hat, tore the cockade out of it, arid threw it on the ground. The strange gentleman drew his sword and called upon any person, who dared, to come forward till he would chastise him. The young officer declared that he was under a promise never to fight in that house. The parties therefore retired, but a hostile message was, of course, immediately sent. The zealous subaltern, however, having discovered that his antagonist, far from being a coward, was a man of established courage and a skilful duellist, offered to make any apology None would be accepted which was not qt, public as the insult, and the terms to which lie was obliged to submit were the following. He provided a cockade, similar to that he had taken from the gentleman’s hat, brought it to the coffee room at the most public hour of the day, there, in presence of the company acknowledged his offence and asked forgiveness, and taking his adversary’s hat placed the cockade in it, declaring he thought him most worthy to wear it.

Weapons of offence were generally kept at the inns for the accommodation of those who might come on an emergency unprovided. In such cases “pistols were ordered for two, and breakfast for one,” as it might and did sometimes, happen that the other did not return to partake of it, being left dead on the field No place was free from these encounters: feuds were cherished and offences often kept in memory till the parties met when swords were drawn and the combat commenced in the public street; a ring was formed round the parties, and they fought within it like two pugilists at Moulsey Hurst. [Near Kingston, in Surrey.] A spectator described to us such an encounter which he witnessed in St Stephen’s-green. One of the combatants was, we believe, George Robert Fitzgerald. The parties were walking round the enclosure in different directions and, as soon as they met, they sprang at each other like two game cocks, a crowd collected, and a ring was formed, when some humane person cried out, “For God’s sake, part them.” “No,” said a grave gentleman in the crowd, “let them fight it out; one will probably be killed, and the other hanged for the murder, and society will get rid of two pests.” One of them did thrust the other through the tail of his coat, and he long exhibited in public, by his uneasy gait, the painful and disgraceful seat of the wound.

Among the duellists of the south of Ireland, at the close of the last century, were several whose deeds are still talked of. One was a gentleman named Hayes, and called “Nosey,” from a remarkable fleshy excrescence growing from the top of his nose, which increased to an enormous size. It was said to be the point at which his antagonist always aimed, as the most striking and conspicuous part of his person. On one occasion he tried in vain to bring an offender to the field, so he charged his son never to appear again in his presence till he brought with him the ear of his antagonist. In obedience to his father’s commands, the son sought out the unfortunate man, seized him, and, as was currently reported, cut off his ear, and actually brought it back to his father, as a peace offering, in a handkerchief.

Another was Pat Power, of Daragle. He was a fat, robust man, much distinguished for his intemperance, and generally seen with a glowing red face. He on one occasion fought with a fire-eating companion called Bob Briscoe; when taking aim, he said he still had a friendship for him, and would show it; so he only shot off his whisker and the top of his ear. His pistol was always at the service of another who had less inclination to use his own; and when a friend of his declined a challenge, Power immediately took it up for him.

When the Duke of Richmond was in the south of Ireland he knighted many persons, without much regard to their merit or claims. In Waterford he was particularly profuse of his honours in this way. Among his knights were the recorder, the paymaster of a regiment, and a lieutenant. Power was in a coffee-house conversing with a gentleman he accidentally met and the topic of conversation was the new knights. He abused them all, but particularly “a fellow called B---, a beggarly half-pay lieutenant.” The gentle-man turned pale, and in confusion immediately left the coffee-room. “Do you know who that is?” said a person present. “No,” said Power; “I never saw him before.” “That’s Sir J. B---- whom you have been abusing.” “In that case,” said Power, with great unconcern, “I must look after my will.” So he immediately proceeded to the office of T. Cooke, an eminent attorney, sat down upon a desk stool, and told him instantly to draw his will, as he had no time to lose. The will was drawn and executed, and then he was asked what was the cause of his hurry. He explained the circumstance, and said he expected to find a message at his house before him. “Never fear,” said Cooke, “the knight is an *Englishman, *and has too much sense to take notice of what you have said.” Cooke prophesied truly. [A similar anecdote is told of a Mr. Bligh. It is probable that both he and Power, having acquired celebrity in the same way, may have been the heroes of similar achievements]

When travelling in England, Power had many encounters with persons who were attracted by his brogue and clumsy appearance. On one occasion a group of gentlemen were sitting in a box at one end of the room when he entered at the other. The representative of Irish manners at this time on the English stage was a tissue of ignorance, blunders, and absurdities; when a real Irishman appeared off the stage, he was always supposed to have the characteristics of his class, and so to be a fair butt for ridicule. When Power took his seat in the box, the waiter came to him with a gold watch, with a gentleman’s compliments and a request to know what o’clock it was by it, Power took the watch, and then directed the waiter to let him know the person that sent it; he pointed out one of the group. Power rang the bell for his servant, and directed him to bring his pistols and follow him. He put them under his arm., and, with the watch in his hand, walked up to the box, and presenting the watch, begged to know to whom it belonged. When no one was willing to own it, he drew his own old silver one from his fob, and presented it to his servant, desiring him to keep it; and putting up the gold one, he gave his name and address, and assured the company he would keep it safe till called for. It never was claimed.

On another occasion he ordered supper, and while waiting for it he read the newspaper. After some time the waiter laid two covered dishes on the table, and when Power examined their contents he found they were two dishes of smoking potatoes. He asked the waiter to whom he was indebted for such good fare, and he pointed to two gentlemen in the opposite box. Power desired his servant to attend him, and directing him in Irish what to do, quietly made his supper off the potatoes, to the great amusement of the Englishmen. Presently his servant appeared with two more covered dishes, one of which he laid down before his master, and the other before the persons in the opposite box. When the covers were removed there was found in each a loaded pistol. Power took up his and cocked it, telling one of the others to take up the second assuring him “they were at a very proper distance for a close shot, and if one fell he was ready to give satisfaction to the other.” The parties immediately rushed out without waiting for a second invitation, and with them several persons in the adjoining box. As they were all in too great a hurry to pay their reckoning, Power paid it for them along with his own.

Another of these distinguished duellists was a Mr Crow Ryan. He shouted along the streets of Carrick-on-Suir, “Who dare say boo” and whoever did dare say so was called out to answer for it. The feats of another, the celebrated “fighting” Fitzgerald, are still well remembered in Dublin. He made it a pratice to stand in the middle of a narrow crossing in a dirty street, so that every passenger would be forced either to step into the mud, or jostle him in passing. If any had the boldness to choose the latter, he was immediately challenged.

The deeds of Bryan Maguire continued till a still more recent period “to fright the islanders from their propriety.” He was a large, burly man, with a bull neck and clumsy shoulders. His face, though not uncomely was disfigured by enormous whiskers, and he assumed on all occasions a truculent and menacing aspect. He had been in the army, serving abroad, and, it was said dismissed the service. He availed himself of his military character and appeared occasionally in the streets in a gaudy glittering uniform, armed with a sword, saying it was the uniform of his corps. When thus accoutred he strolled through the streets, looking round on all that passeed with a haughty contempt.

His ancestors were among the reguli of Ireland, and one of them was a distinguished Irish leader in 1641. He therefore assumed the port and bearing which he thought became the son of an Irish king. The streets were formerly more encumbered with dirt than they are now, and the only mode of passing from one side to the other was by a narrow crossing made through mud heaped up at each side. It was Bryan’s glory to take sole possession of one of those, and to be seen with his arms folded across his ample chest, stalking along in solitary magnificence. Any unfortunate wayfarer who met him on the path was sure to be hurled into the heap of mud at one side of it. The sight was generally attractive, and a crowd usually collected at one end of the path to gaze on him, or prudently wait till he had passed.

His domestic habits were in keeping with his manner abroad. When he required the attendance of a servant he had a peculiar manner of ringing the bell. His pistols always lay on the table beside him, and, instead of applying his hand to the bell-pull in the usual way, he took up a pistol and fired it at the handle of the bell, and continued firing till he hit it, and so caused the bell below to sound. He was such an accurate shot with a pistol, that his wife was in the habit of holding a lighted candle for him, as a specimen of his skill, to snuff with a pistol bullet at so many paces’ distance.

Another of his royal habits was the mode of passing his time. He was seen for whole days leaning out of his window, and amusing himself with annoying the passengers. When one went by whom he thought a fit subject, he threw down on him some rubbish or dirt to attract his notice, and when the man looked up, he spat in his face. If he made any expostulation Bryan crossed his arms, and presenting a pistol in each hand, invited him up to his room, declaring he would give him satisfaction there, and his choice of the pistols. After a time Bryan disappeared from Dublin.

The laws by which duelling is punishable were then as severe as now; but such was the spirit of the times that they remained a dead letter. No prosecution ensued, or even if it did, no conviction would follow. Every man on the jury was himself probably a duel-list, and would not find his brother guilty. After a fatal duel the judge would leave it as a question to the jury, whether there had been “any foul play” with a direction not to convict for murder if there had not. Instances have occurred within the last 90 years in which this question has gone to the jury.

Judge Mayne [Edward Mayno, a Justice of the King’s Bench., 1817-20.] was a serious, solemn man, and a rigid moralist. His inflexible countenance on the bench imposed an unusual silence and sense of seriousness upon the court. A case of duelling came before him on the western circuit, accompanied by some unusual circumstances, which, in the disturbed state of the moral feeling of the time, were considered an alleviation. An acquittal was therefore expected as a thing of course. The judge, however, took a different view of the case; he clearly laid it down as one of murder, and charged the jury to find such a verdict. His severity was a subject of universal reprobation, and his efforts to put down murder were considered acts of heartless cruelty. In a company of western gentle men, when his conduct was talked over; some one inquired what was Judge Mayne’s Christian name “I cannot tell what it is,” said another, “but I know what it is not it is not Hugh.”

Since then a memorable change has come over the spirit of the times, and men, who had been slaves to public opinion, dared to brave it. Criminal informations for challeng ing or provoking to fight were ventured upon by gentlemen, even at the hazard of being considered cowards. In one term 13 were filed from the neighbourhood or Galway. Duelling in Ireland is now happily a tbing of the past. The mania seems to have commenced after the battle of the Boyne, and terminated with the Union. The effect of the first was to disband a number of military men by the dissolution of the Irish army, who wandered about the country without employment or means of living, yet adhering with tenacity to the rank and feelings of gentlemen. They were naturally susceptible of slight or insult, and ready, on all occasions, to resent them by an appeal to their familiar weapons - the sword or pistol. Their opponents, the Williamites, had been soldiers likewise, and were not likely to treat with due respect ruined and defeated men. These causes, acting on temperaments naturally hot and irritable, brought on constant collisions, which were not confined to the parties, but soon extended through all classes.

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